


The Odyssey of an android discovering his sexuality

by almondmilkk



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor centric, Hank is a huge father hen for Connor, Innocent cute android discovering the wondrous activity of sex, M/M, Markus will come later but when he comes.. he comes 8), Masturbation, Smut, more tags to be added later, sexual awakening, update: i dont know if ill continue this :( we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-07 06:59:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almondmilkk/pseuds/almondmilkk
Summary: The fact that Connor wasn’t designed for something didn’t mean that thoughts, behaviors and activities of that nature couldn’t take place in him. That slowly became clear for him.





	1. Chapter 1

Entering that place ignited...  _Something_ in him.

Connor was well instructed in everything related to deviants and how to handle them. The laws, jurisdiction and the world’s situation didn’t escape his knowledge either, just like the dictionary definitions in hundreds of languages or the use of difficult mathematics, amidst much, much more which made of him a matchless being. He was an android programmed to excel in everything that required his help, and so he did. He acted properly and found plausible solutions to everything that stood in his path. He could define it, understand it, and then bring flawless solution to it.

What his body was doing to him now escaped his understanding, for the first time in his period of activity.

_Bodies lacking clothes. Colored lights. Hipnotic dances. Pectorals, abdomens, muscled legs._

His eyes were drawn to these, against his will. So he gazed at them, admiring what was in front of him. He looked from an android’s feet, to its legs, to its covered crotch, to its chest, neck and face and the android was looking at him and-

Connor didn’t know how to react externally to that alluring view. His internal responses were flagrant -his breathing capacity was diminished, his systems overheated, his nervousness index increased, among other things he couldn’t give a name to- and involuntary, but the external ones he had to decide himself.

He had no idea what he shouldndo, or the certainty that he could carry it out at a 100% seeing as his system’s status wasn’t optimal, so he just kept staring.

The boy -no, the android- smiled at him and bit its lip, and Connor, Connor—

“The hell are you doing?” Hank yanked him out of his stupor with his usual irritated voice. It was then when Connor remembered there was a mission to be accomplished, and he mentally scolded himself for allowing his head to distance itself so much from his goal. Without looking again at the amdroid (Connor did what he had to do), he followed Hank.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” he answered with his best attempt at that neutral face he wore so much, but that was so hard to muster up now. Hank just looked at him with skeptical surprise. He seemed about to say something but decided against it, and just kept walking. Connor went beside him, wondering what Hank was going to bring up before refusing to speak.

If his mind went back to the boy, Connor didn’t have to analyze the reason behind that fact in that moment.

 

* * *

 

Connor wasn’t stupid. Connor knew what attraction and sex were.

But they weren’t in his program, so he supposed what he felt inside wasn’t related to them.

 

* * *

 

Those two Tracis were against the android protocol. Those two Tracis had acted against the law.

_Those two Tracis were in love. Those two Tracis were attracted to each other._

Those two Tracis were deviants. Those two Tracis deserved a bullet in the head.

_Those two Tracis had inside what Connor had felt when looking at that android but exponentially increased, and with care and attachment and love._

No matter how hard he tried, Connor didn’t manage to shoot.

 

* * *

 

He landed on his bed and didn’t even make the effort to take his clothes off. He just stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, remembering the events of the day in a failed attempt for them to make more sense for him, in what concerned him.

When he stopped hoping to find non-existing answers to inexplicable questions he just let his mind flow on its own, and the only thing it did was to project moving images of synthetic muscles like his, artificial skins to the thought of which he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t acceptable that machines like him created such kind of insurrections. There was no comparison between them and humanity - humans had a genuine, unadulterated soul that had not been created a priori by other intelligent beings. Them, the android, weren’t but the creation of such incredible race, and didn’t deserve more than to be treated as such; as the created with a specifical purpose: helping people when needed.

So Connor was there, next to his partner Hank: at the Stratford Tower, with the goal of investigating about the attack there was in it and knowing more about what had happened.

He was already slightly on edge due to the talk he’d had with Hank before. He’d brought up the deviancy issue, the _why didn’t you shoot the Tracis_ , and it had been really hard for him to answer. How could he answer Hank’s questions when he couldn’t even answer his own? Connor, objectively, seemed not to know himself anumore. He lacked understanding of his own situation, which gave him something classifiable as a lump in his throat.

Connor hadn’t yet watched the video that had raised so much exaltation. It must be, he supposed, impactful, for it to have reached -and with such intensity- so many people. He’d heard that the android who had recorded it, known as Markus, was an eloquent speaker. He would have to evaluate it himself.

(And maybe he wasn’t that eager to do it. Maybe he was afraid that its arguments would convince him. But he didn’t have to tell that to anyone.)

When he reached the broadcasting room he saw that nearly everything was in its place. He walked around the place, studying the picture as well as he could to later be able to adequately report his conclusions. But none of it really made sense without having watched the video, so, swallowing, Connor hit play.

In front of him stood the image of an android who had shed his human appearance. Unabashed of being what he was, with all of his actual being on display. Prideful, almost, of being of his condition. Connor’s chest tightened. His eyes weren’t the same color -one of them must not be original-, and they had a magnitude in them that he had rarely observed in the people around him, who had apparently been burnt so much by life that there wasn’t the slightest trace of vigor left in them. Connor lightly bit his lower lip while he listened to his speech and regarded him with attention.

He spoke with an almost atypical determination in his voice. It had more peaceful undertones, but the subtle vehemence of what he said really made his words pierce into whoever listened. His expression was that of someone who knew their mind, and _what a mind_ , Connor couldn’t help but think deliriously as he realized his ideas made sense.

 _No, Connor_.

His heart started pounding when he became aware of the gravity of the thoughts that had passed through his head. _What’s wrong with you, Connor?_ He clenched his fists and reminded himself that androids weren’t but robots at the disposal of humans. (Or that’s what they wanted him to think.)

His stress index rose. Contemplating that kind of things only made him, an _android designed to stop deviants_ , get closer and closer to that last status and that would have _horrible_ repercussions and no. No. _No_.

He had to focus on something else.

So he started focusing on the android’s appearance.

He -well, fuck, _it_ , he guessed- was an RK200 who, Connor felt it, had left the slave position behind time ago. He was aware of what he was and what he wanted, and there was a certain something in his individuality that... That... Well. Same physical reactions as he’d had in the Eden club. Connor breathed in and tried to ignore the slight Thirium rush that came to his face.

That boy’s promises, no matter how implausible, resonated inside his system. Repeating once and again in his mind. _I’ve come to tell you that you don't have to obey them anymore. From this day forward,you can walk with your heads held high, you can take your destiny in your hands._ Utopian _._

His aspect -his aura- captivated Connor and, before he lost control of the circumstances, something he knew would happen if he kept witnessing such images, Connor stopped the video and walked away from the screen. He had seen enough.

Although no matter where he went, those eyes of blood and of life followed him in his head. That mouth that preached such sweet, chimerical words.

 _Markus_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit gets real in this one ;))

Tonight he  _had_  taken off his suit and put on his pajamas before going to sleep. Not because of less exaltation than in the other mission, but because of the knowledge that things could not continue like this. He had to do everything well, both when seen by third parties and when not, since he had been programmed for that. He even combed and showered, this time - not that he needed it, but there was something about the action that made him feel more down to earth and not in some imaginary place that only existed in his cravings.

But no matter how much preparation he might have had for sleep, he realized between the sheets that there was no way to get himself to turn off; to fall asleep in human terms. An alien sensation ran through his body, and his intuition told him that it was this that did not allow him to rest. It made him unable to close his eyes, to sit still feeling comfortable. It was a kind of restlessness he did not know before.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts at silencing his thoughts, he finally let them flow in defeat.  _Fuck._

The first thing that came to his mind were the Markus' words. He spent a while considering them, realizing that they were not really as crazy as they were realist, and...  _Not today._  Not today, because Connor did not think he was ready to really acknowledge certain things yet. He had to do what he was told to, and that was it. That's what he was there for.

But now he was alone, didn't have anyone's eyes on him, so he could indulge himself a little more in what he wanted.

And he did not know exactly what I wanted, but he knew he wanted something.

He closed his eyes and thought about Markus. About the tone of his voice, about his face, about him in general. Just by imagining him he got that sensation, and he allowed himself to fantasize about different scenarios with the two of them in them. In the first onw, Markus and he talked. They knew each other, they seemed to get along. In the second one, they worked together against oppressive humanity, and WOW he'd process that later. In the third one, Markus came closer and closer to him, until he placed his lips on his. Connor had no fucking idea what was going on, but that kiss -that's what they called it- was just  _great_ , and he wanted more and more and  _more_  and the fourth scenario had Markus naked on top of him, touching him,  _connecting_  with him in some way and taking care of him with kisses and caresses. _Fuck. Fuck._

Would that be attraction? He was not supposed to feel it. It was not in his design. But fuck it, fuck it, _fuck it all_ , he thought as he instinctively slipped his hand into his pants.

With his fingers he brushed his artificial dick, which he had same as most male androids did. It was in a state that differed greatly from how it normally was, and he recognized it as an erection thanks to his innate knowledge.  _What the fuck._  He did not know these things applied to him.

He decided to stop thinking and to start doing what he wanted to do. He grabbed it with his hand and, curious as to what would happen -he had knowledge about these things, but limited to the most basic- he tried to jerk it. A moan sounded through the room, and Connor realized that it had come out of his mouth when another came out. He felt something indescribable. It was a weird feeling, one that he'd never imagined before, but it made him feel strangely good, and he just wanted  _more_. He moved his hand up and down, and  _fuck_ , his face must be a curious sight. He didn't think he had shown so much emotion before: he noticed his eyebrows coming together, eyes closed, mouth open, releasing noises that until now he deemed himself incapable of making and a blue tint spread over his cheeks, if the heat he felt in the area was something to guide himself by. He had no idea what color his LED would be, but probably _not_ blue.

Connor continued with his ministrations. His mind was cloudy, it wasn't working at a 100%. Thoughts only came occasionally, and most of these had to do with Markus or the guy from the Eden club.

After a while of groans with an attempt to be suppressed -Hank was sleeping, or so Connor liked to think-, he began to feel something get stuck in his belly. It was powerful, and it seemed that at any time- at any moment--

" _AH!_ " Connor let go involuntarily as he felt the peak of all that previous pleasure, with Markus' face on his head. It was sublime, and it made him feel very,  _very_  good. He kept touching himself until the wave passed, when he left his hand where it was and allowed himself to rest more calmly in bed, to recover his breath after such a session of... Discovery, he supposed. The beginning of a, perhaps, new stage for him. He could feel his chest rising and falling with his agitated breathing.

A few minutes later he realized that the hand on his genitals was wet. He didn't quite understand it. He pulled it out of his pants to see it with his night vision, and he saw a kind of dense whitish fluid that had most likely come out of him, which had probably stained his pants as well.  _Shit_ , he thought.  _Let's see how I justify this to Hank_ : Connor lived, for now, in his house, and either it was him who did the laundry this time or he was screwed.

In any case, he was curious about the fluid, and he did, innocently, what he did with all the fluids he wanted to analyze: he licked it. It had a weird taste. The analysis made it clear: RK800 android semen.

_Ohh_. So semen, huh. The concept sounded vaguely familiar. A small search on the internet (which was intrinsic to his system) made it clear that it was a male human ejection that happened upon reaching orgasm, which had been imitated when designing male androids to make them more like humans. From there he lacked knowledge of a word: orgasm. He searched it and  _oh_ , yeah. Alright, now he definitely knew what  _that_  had been.

He wiped the excess semen from his hand on his belly and, content minutes later, he finally managed to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for all the kudos and comments! i really appreciate them. feel free to leave some constructive criticism or to suggest something and i might add it to the story ^^


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back binches :^) im sorry this took so long but hey its 2.8k so its way longer than the ones from before. uwu

The dream world was one of a disproportionate mysticism. It had color and it had sensations, it had all kinds of experiences. It was present, constantly, in humanity, projecting on it images that ranged from the sweetest of fantasies to the most scorching of hells. It was a curious realm, without going any further. Curious that it was so easily created by their minds, curious that it could reach such repercussions on people. 

They had created androids in their image. Their God complex was such that they'd tried to develop them as exact copies, but without parts like the insurrection desire - a failed attempt on humanity's behalf, as had been proved with Markus and his android revolution.  _Oh, Markus._  They were provided with intelligence, with power to do whatever was needed, and even with emotions. Outside deviancy these were also lightly present, as was displayed in their LED. Inside deviancy, they were the reason and purpose of everything they did, basically, along with the critical mind present in the revolutionary models.

In any case, they'd tried to replicate themselves so much that they'd given androids the ability to dream. These dreams were an emotional mixture of the android in question's subconscious, based sometimes on what it had seen around and whatever had impacted it the most, whether more intense or more subtle, of less apparent importance. Some other times they were rooted on deep dreams or fears that, contrary to popular belief, were there in most androids. In most cases they didn't realize if they weren't deviants, but that didn't make them any less real.

Connor had had dreams, as was logical, since the beginning. Other than his meet-ups with Amanda, that happened in some complex place in his mind -thanks Kamski for making everything so convoluted-, he also had dreams like most. He tried not to think too much about them, same as he tried not to think of what Markus' words raised in him. He knew eventually he would have to face it, but the more he could postpone it... The more he could stay relatively stable...

The dream he'd had today...  _Fuck_ , the dream he'd had today. He'd be lying if he said that it hadn't affected him, that he hadn't woken up breathing intensely and with a sensation that he'd felt just the night before.  _That boy's body was against his, with no barriers between them and with human skins becoming synthetic white, in hypnotic contact between the two. Coalescing. Feeling each other, between sighs and moans and relentless research for more, just more. Culminating together._ And if the boy had adopted, in any moment, the shape of the revolution's leader, Connor didn't have to dwell on that.

Fuck. Intuitively, he slipped one of his hands under the sheets and felt his, yep, there it was, erection that he'd gotten while he slept. He exhaled releasing sound, and grabbed it with his hand. He already had knowledge of the situation because he'd been in it a few hours ago, so he didn't doubt when he started moving his hand. He knew what his goal was: to reach that indescribable sensation of sharp pleasure that filled his whole self at the end. The "orgasm", as he'd seen was its name. And what came before, too, the most pleasant process he'd ever experimented.

His head went back to the dream. To the sensation of the other android against him, touching him right where he wanted it and whispering words in his ear. He didn't stop moving his hand, basking for the second time in that sensation.

Between sighs and muffled groans -he  _really_ did not want Hank to notice anything of... That-, Connor persevered in his ministrations, growing more and more erratic with the strong pleasure he felt.

He knew the moment had come when his eyes shut involuntarily and his eyebrows squinched in pleasure. Without stopping touching himself, he was about to-- about to--  _about to--_  his hand got wet with the "android semen" and his whole system got filled to the brim with the most immaculate pleasure. Now he couldn't stop the moan that escaped his mouth, bringing his hand to it -with which he perceived his face's unusual heat- to muffle it as much as possible.

His breath stayed labored for a little while. Woah, that activity really... Really... Managed to trap him with the most sublime claws he could envision. It was incredible. He couldn't believe it was just now that he'd discovered it. He guessed it went along with his... Awakening, in a way. Sexual awakening. He still didn't know what to call what he felt for those androids, because as one of them he wasn't supposed to feel certain typically human things... But well. He'd already proved a lot of his behaviors could escape what was expected from him. Now all he needed was for no one else to notice, if he wanted to keep life as he knew it.

His hand was stained with semen. His pants, with the one from now and the one from before. He supposed now he did have to do something about it, so after taking his dirty hand to his mouth for the second time -...Well, if he did what he wanted he may as well do what he really wanted, and if tasting his own fluid was amidst it, so be it- Connor got up from bed. He searched for remains of his activities on the sheets (and luckily there was nothing), and he took off his pants and briefs, leaving them on a chair, and put on his work clothes, pristine and professional as always. Alien to the activities of the android that wore them. Connor felt restless, in the best sense. Like a kid who tries sweets for the first time, and knows there are many more ahead of them to be eaten. He allowed a faint smile to settle on his face.

Okay. As an android, he never dirtied his clothes - his body was way better designed than people's, so he never irradiated smells or created any kind of filth by himself. Whenever he got dirty it was by external influence, although he supposed that in this case... Things changed. Although his work clothes were washed often because of his job's requirements, his pijama was never, since it wasn't ever stained or unclean. But this... This was different, so clutching his briefs and pants in his hand, he went towards the washing machine.

_Fuck._

"Oh, hey, look who's awake. Good morning," Hank greeted him, still in his pyjamas, leaning on the  _fucking_ washing machine having a coffee. Connor almost short-circuited.

"Good morning, lieutenant," he answered with a voice he wished didn't reflect his nervousness that was so close to the surface. Hank blinked with a face of not buying it.  _Shit_.

"Your LED is yellow,"  _FUCK, SHIT,_  "is there something wrong?" Hank asked with a raised eyebrow. Connor made his best effort to muster a normal answer, but well.

"It's nothing, I'm alright, seriously," Connor let go swallowing saliva, trying to subtly hide what he had in his hand. Hank only stared with even more skepticism. 

And  _shit_ , "What's in your hand?"

Fuck. Fuck. Implausible answers time.

"...My pyjamas. I thought that now that I'm adapting to human life I could wash it, even it it's not completely necessary, to be, like... More human. Or something."  _Shit._  No one expected more humanity from him but  _the fucking opposite_ , and here he was screwing it all up.

"...A'ight. Whatever you want. I'll get it and get it into the washing machine."

Suddenly everything happened very quickly. Hank yanked the pajamas by the part he didn't have in his hand. The android didn't let go,  _by rA9 (((((or something))))), no_ , and soon they were both facing each other with the pants and the briefs -Cyberlife super high couture- between them. Connor's mind went blank.

"...Connor, what are these stains?"

Connor's instincts told him to look for the closest gun and shoot hi _mself in the fucking head because fuck. FUCK. SHIT. NOW WHAT? He couldn't tell his partner what he'd been doing, he was sure it wouldn't be professional at all, and fuck Connor wanted to keep things at least slightly professional. A little bit. But this- this- this couldn't be further from laboral decency._

"...Lmao. I didn't know you robots did these things as well," Hank commented letting go a slight laugh.

" _I can explain, I promise-"_

"No, boy," Hank looked him in the eye with an almost paternal smile on his face, and  _what the fuck was happening,_  "there's nothing to explain. It's just shocking that androids really are that similar to people, but well. It's normal of someone your, um, I imagine, age to masturbate, don't worry."

"To mastur-- What?" Connor, completely nervous, couldn't help but say.

"You really don't...?" Hank started with disbelief in his voice. Seeing the android's overwhelmed eyes, he sighed. " _Aaalright_. Alright. I see what happens now. Oh my, what a big baby."  _?????_  "Connor, do you want us to sit down and talk about this?"

" _Lieutenant, but that would be unprofessional-"_

"Connor, do I look professional at all? Here, with my  _ancient_ lenny face mug and my Mr. Krabs voice? Come on."

It was hard for Connor to accede to do what Hank said, to sit down and talk things through. He knew it would help in making things clear for him, but he had an intense feeling of embarrassment when talking about these things with his work partner. And  _no_ , Connor didn't miss the parallelisms that their relationship had with a father-son one, but... It was hard. In general, it was hard.

"Alright," he finally said.

They left the clothes in the pile of clothes to wash and sit down on the table, face to face. Hank scratched his neck in an expression that Connor understood as shyness before looking him straight in the eyes and placing his hands on the table. He cleared his throat before starting to speak.

"Okay, Connor. I guess tonight, or this morning, you've... Touched yourself, right?" Connor imagined that the most adequate answer he could have was to nod, so he did. To touch oneself could objectively be in any part of one's body, but he supposed it would be some kind of euphemism for the activity he'd carried out. "And it felt good, right? Shit, I feel like a fucking father."

"...Yes, it felt good."

"Okay, Connor. Us humans call that masturbation."

"Okay."

"It's something you can do if you want to, nothing stops you from doing it. It's not bad or wrong."

"Alright."

Hank looked down, as if trying to think of more information to give him. Connor still felt potent embarrassment inside, but he understood this really was the best thing he could do: letting someone more experimented guide him through the parameters of this new world.

"Well, uh... You don't generally cum in your pants, so I'd recommend you get a piece of toilet paper or something, or to just do it in the shower. Well, you don't need to shower, but if you feel like it, then-- Well, I don't know. Have it your way." To cum? Connor didn't really get that.

"Excuse me, but what does cum mean?" Connor asked all polite, and Hank let out a faint laugh.

"It means to come, to ejaculate. Do you know when from your dick comes out a thick whitish liquid?"

"Yes, the 'semen'."

"Exactly. That's sometimes called cumming." Now it made sense.

"I understand. Thank you for the clarification."

"You're welcome, son. Well, you see, many times if you masturbate it's because you have a repressed sexual desire. Connor, do you think you do?"

"I don't really know what you refer to when you say sexual desire, but perhaps."

"It's when you want to have sex, be it with a person in particular or just in general. Do you?"

Answering these question was strange, but very useful to pull him out of his ignorance.

"I think so, Hank."

"Alright. Um, hey, you don't actually have to answer to any of this. I'm just trying to help, but if you prefer not to talk about these things it's okay."

Connor considered the offer to cut his answer flow there. It was appealing, since that situation was just  _hard_ , but he knew the best option was to keep talking with Hank. Not only were things made more clear, something really appreciated, but it was also a bonding experience with him, which wasn't at all bad if they later wanted to cooperate better when working. The more they trusted each other the more competence, he supposed.

And also, it helped him define what he was.

"No, don't worry. I reckon it's good for me to talk about these things with someone who clearly knows more about them than I do."

"Alright then, I'm glad. Well, when do you think it began?" Connor did know that.

"In the Eden Club. Do you know there was a moment in which you asked me what I was doing and I answered that I got distracted? Well, I was... Looking at an android. And he- it-"

"You can just say he, it's alright," Hank interrupted and it was nice. It was nice that he could refer to his kind as more than objects.

"Well,  _he_  was looking at me, and... I don't know.  _Something_  happened to me."

"That's what I thought happened. I guess there's no place like that to realize certain things. And it was a boy you were looking at?"

"Well, a male android, yes."

"Okay. And have you ever felt like that about a girl? Or female android, I guess."

"No," Connor answered, because he realized up until now it was only men (or robotic representations of them) that populated his mind when he felt those things.

"Alright. That means you're gay," Hank explained.

"And what does that mean?" he asked, because it didn't really make sense. He knew some French and knew the meaning of the word  _gai,_ but he supposed it meant something else in that context.

"That as a man you only like men. It's one more of the sexual orientations."

"Ah, okay. Then I'm gay. Because I guess I... 'Like' men. And that's it."

"There are many more, like, a lot of stuff. But honestly I don't know why I'm explaining this to you. Stupid human bullshit. Shit, just like whoever you like and that's it. No need to give a name to everything."

"Okay, got it. But it's nice to be able to give a name to things, I figure."

It was hard for him to believe that these things applied to him, an android. So he tried to reformulate the way he perceived himself. He scratched the  _My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by Cyberlife_ and he created a new sentence, that gave him the feeling of defining him more:  _My name is Connor, I'm an android that sometimes has human tendencies, but that's alright._ It was obvious that he wouldn't tell that to anyone, but it did it for him. For self-definition.

It helped him define who he was.

"Thank you for everything, then, Hank. These things really help... To tidy up the mess in my head, I guess."

"You're welcome, son."

 

* * *

 

He logically didn't shoot. He didn't know whether Kamski actually expected him to do it or not, but there was something inside of him that did not allow him to. On no account.

And it wasn't that he diverged... It was that it was the right choice to take.

Or so he told himself.

 

* * *

 

Maybe it wasn't the best time to do some things, like watching TV. But Hank had the TV on, and an important event was being broadcast: the first android march for their rights. Markus' revolutionary movement was really gaining popularity between androids, and Connor couldn't help sitting beside his partner to watch them parade.

He'd already seen the protest they'd had not long ago in Capitol Park. They asked for things that Connor, against what he should do, found that made sense, and this now was just the demonstration that he wasn't the only one who did, at all.

And, Markus had his skin on. In all its attractive, alluring,  _fascinating_ glory, as Connor saw it. He could only look at him.

At a skin different from the white plastic, at a hair different from the non-existing one from the original form, but at the same mismatched eyes that so deeply seemed to reach inside Connor's soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alsoo if someone feels like betareading this it'd be nice!! i dont really trust myself with using english properly. hmu if u want to :D


End file.
